When old fogies stop to reminisce about the 1990s, about the music that soundtracked final few years of the 20th Century, we might think of the Spice Girls, Take That, or Pulp. Maybe even The Prodigy, or The Chemical Brothers. But if you had to bet on it, you’d bet that we think of this one moment: the chart dated 20th-26th August 1995.
Country House, by Blur (their 1st of two #1s)
2 weeks, from 20th August – 3rd September 1995
Oasis Vs Blur. North Vs South. Working-class Mancs vs posh(er) Essex lads. Cliches, cliches, all the way. Legend has it that Liam Gallagher taunted Damon Albarn about Oasis having a number one single, spurring Blur’s management to cheekily change their next release date to clash with Oasis’s ‘Roll With It’, making for great publicity, and the highest sales week for a decade (setting the way for single sales to hit an all-time high in the coming years).
But the story here is the song, primarily, and I should block out all the hype and noise and focus on the tune. As with ‘Some Might Say’, ‘Country House’ may have been Blur’s first #1, but it’s not one of their very best singles. From their earlier hits, ‘Girls & Boys’ is better musically, while ‘Parklife’ has left a much larger cultural legacy. Still, it’s a fun, multi-coloured romp, right from the helter skelter intro through to the brass section in the fade-out. And it tells a story not much heard in chart-topping singles: that of a country squire living a life of rural asceticism. He’s got a fog in chest, So he needs a lot of rest… He doesn’t drink, smoke, laugh, Takes herbal baths… In the country…
There’s a lot going on, musically, and a lot of knowing references to British bands past. Oasis get a lot of stick for being musical magpies, but I hear plenty of Kinks and Small Faces, as well as Madness, and the ghosts of British music hall, here. (Chas & Dave, too, according to Noel Gallagher, but he meant it as an insult…) The video also has Brit-references galore: Page 3 girls, Benny Hill themed hi-jinks, a nod to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, Matt Lucas, Jo Guest and Keith Allen (featuring in his second chart-topping video). And for the ultimate Britpop seal of approval, it was directed by Damien Hirst.
The story, like I said, should be the song. And yet, would ‘Country House’ have made #1 were it not for all the hullaballoo? Maybe, as it was the lead single off a hotly-anticipated new album. But maybe not, as Blur had only three previous Top 10 hits to their name, and just one Top 5. So perhaps we can’t fully separate this song from all the nonsense. What’s certain is that the right song won. ‘Roll With It’ is probably Oasis’s laziest single. I do like it, but you can see why it’s been called ‘Status-Slade’ (though that’s not the insult some might think…) Also, in terms of the ‘Battle of Britpop’, Blur were the originals – their 1992 hit ‘Popscene’ is claimed by many as the very first Britpop single.
In my post on ‘Some Might Say’, I mentioned that my love for Oasis has dimmed over the years. With Blur, the opposite has happened. Nobody I knew at school would have admitted to liking them over Oasis – they were too clever, too arty… Everyone liked ‘Song 2’, but then that’s their dumbest song by far. As a sensible adult, though, I can admit that Blur were the more expansive songwriters. More fun, too – just look at them in the video, pratting about in bubble-baths, then try to imagine Liam doing the same…
Still, this is the first of only two times that we I’ll be writing about Blur (Albarn does also have a Gorillaz #1 to his name). Oasis may have lost this chart battle, but they definitely won the war…
For many, Take That peaked with ‘Back for Good’, their sixth and best-loved number one single. Where to go from there, then? Back to decent-but-unremarkable pop, such as ‘Sure’? Or do they get Jim Steinman, a kids’ choir, and a sample from Verdi’s ‘Requiem’, and throw together an extravagantly OTT remake of a track from their most recent album?
Never Forget, by Take That (their 7th of twelve #1s)
3 weeks, from 30th July – 20th August 1995
I’m sure you already know, but it was the latter. Trumpets of the type usually reserved for announcing royalty herald this next chart-topper. Angelic children’s voices telling us that we’ve come so far, and we’ve reached so high… Depending how you score on the Barlow-tolerance meter, this is either further evidence that Take That were not just another boyband… Or the sound of them, and their songwriter-in-chief, disappearing up their collective arses.
When all the choirs and the Verdi are done, and the song slips into a bog-standard mid-nineties soul-pop beat, it’s a little disappointing. Much of this song’s near seven-minute runtime is fairly mundane, but nobody remembers that. They remember the soaring chorus (that takes well over two minutes to arrive) and the extended fade-out, rather than the dull verses.
It’s now a standard boyband cliché: the song about how fame hasn’t changed them, or how fame isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. This record might be where that trope stems from, as Howard Donald (on rare lead-vocal duty) announces weighty lyrics like We’ve had success, We’ve had good times, But remember this… while a slideshow of pictures from their childhoods plays in the video, interspersed with clips of them winning awards and generally being adored.
Again, if you have a cynical little mind (like I do) you could see this entire project as a massive humblebrag. My mind starts to wondering if Robbie left before or after ‘Never Forget’, as his voice is nowhere to be heard. But then he appears, eventually, to throw some ad-libs around in the long fade-out. Perhaps his diminished role is a clue as to why he did finally quit the band, post-recording but before ‘Never Forget’ was released. He’s had a fairly small role in all but one of their #1s (‘Everything Changes’), with nothing to suggest that he was going to be the huge solo star that he is.
I do like aspects of this single, just in case I’ve sounded too down on it. The sheer scale of it, the Jim Steinman-isation of it. The chorus is one of their very best, too. But by the six minute mark I’ve had my fill, and there’s a false ending that really tests the patience. Still, it was a huge hit – of course it was – and their seventh chart-topper in just two years. Yet it was the beginning of the end. Robbie had left, no further singles were released from the album, and there’s only a fairly limp Bee Gees cover to come before Britain’s biggest boyband are laid to rest. For a bit, anyway.
In my last post, I asked who were the worse duo: the Outhere Brothers, or Robson & Jerome? Well here they stand, in direct comparison…
Boom Boom Boom, by The Outhere Brothers (their 2nd and final #1)
4 weeks, from 2nd – 30th July 1995
It’s more obnoxious rap-cum-dance from the Outheres, though I have to admit that this is significantly better than ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’. It has a less irritating beat, and something resembling a verse-chorus structure. It hangs together like an actual song, rather than a bunch of samples around which filthy lyrics are shouted.
That’s not to say the lyrics aren’t dirty here; they just don’t reach the same levels of obnoxious vulgarity as their earlier #1. There’s an excellent use of the term ‘nani’, (as in put your nani on my tongue…), as well as various mentions of the brothers’ pet obsession: the booty. And I will confess I smiled at the line: Slip my Peter, Into your folder… I’m no prude, and if rudeness can be both silly and inventive, then I’m all for it.
The vast majority of the song though, is a sledgehammer Eurodance beat, and the call-and-response hook of Boom, boom, boom, Now let me hear you say Way-Oh! That’s what I remember from the school playgrounds of the time, and presumably the reason why this was such a hit. There’s nary a millennial alive who can’t complete the second half of the title line, though back in 1995 innocent little me had no idea that there was an explicit original.
Like ‘Don’t Stop’, it looks like ‘Boom Boom Boom’ had a wide variety of mixes and edits: some radio-friendly, some not. I don’t know if these were a factor in making this record a hit, or whether the British public were just mad for the Outhere Brothers in the summer of ’95. It still does feel very incongruous that slap bang in the middle of the year of Britpop, we had a month of this after seven weeks of Robson & Jerome’s golden-oldies.
This, thankfully, is the last we’ll hear from The Outhere Brothers. They would manage a couple of further Top 10 hits, before fading away. I call this the ‘significantly better’ of their two chart-toppers, but that still doesn’t mean it’s particularly good. The Brothers’ charms remain difficult to place. At least they didn’t outstay their welcome – a quick-fire double and now we can forget they ever existed. Unlike the year’s other duo…
Serious question: who were the worst musical duo of 1995? In any other year, the moronic Outhere Brothers would have taken the prize hands down. And yet… We also have to reckon with another, potentially even more heinous, pair…
Unchained Melody / White Cliffs of Dover, by Robson & Jerome (their 1st of three #1s)
7 weeks, from 14th May – 2nd July 1995
Robson Green and Jerome Flynn were two actors and television personalities – still are, in fact. They had risen to prominence in the ITV series ‘Soldier Soldier’, in which they played, yes, soldiers. In one episode, they sang an impromptu version of ‘Unchained Melody’ at a wedding, going by the name the Unrighteous Brothers… And the rest was history.
This record suffers from two major problems. First off, it’s terrible. Secondly, the incomparably superior version of ‘Unchained Melody’ that this cover was based on is still fresh in the memory, having topped the charts barely four years ago. Which makes this sound even more like a cheap karaoke cash-in than the tinny backing track and the dodgy vocals might suggest.
And OK, they may have been going for a ‘cheap and cheerful’ feel, as in the TV programme, but that might be giving them a little too much benefit of the doubt. Allegedly the duo had a little ‘assistance’ in the recording studio (to the point where some claim that it’s not really them singing), but I’m not one to cast aspersions. Robson and Jerome seem like decent blokes, not taking themselves too seriously, enjoying an unexpected change in career direction… So on the one hand we shouldn’t get too annoyed by this silly #1. Yet, on the other, there’s the fact that what should have been a fun scene from a TV show was turned into a seven-week chart-topper, and the best-selling single of 1995 – nay, the best-selling single of the entire decade so far! The British public, once again, showing themselves unfit to be trusted within twenty feet of a record shop.
On the flip side of the disc, there’s something slightly more interesting. ‘(There’ll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs of Dover’ is a song from the Second World War, made famous by the forces’ sweetheart Vera Lynn. It’s interesting, because it may well have been a tie-in for the 50th anniversary of VE Day, and because it’s a clear indication of who this record was aimed at. Grannies across the land kept this on top of the charts, holding off U2 and, in a travesty far worse than Engelbert or ‘Shaddap You Face’, Pulp’s ‘Common People’.
‘Bluebirds’ itself is every bit as rotten as ‘Unchained Melody’, while the production may be even cheaper and nastier, slathered over twee lines about shepherds watching their flocks and little Jimmy sleeping safe in his room (which I’m sure were powerful in 1942 with the Luftwaffe swarming overhead, but which just sound maudlin here). At least, by the end, the pair have been relieved of their singing duties by a much more competent gospel choir.
Apparently both Robson and Jerome had to be persuaded to do any of this, to the point that Green threatened to sue for harassment. Who, pray tell, could be cynical enough to risk a court appearance in the name of unleashing this crap on the nation…? Oh, right, yep. Simon Cowell. The dark overlord of the charts in the 2000s cut his blood-sucking teeth with this, his first number one record. It was produced by two-thirds of SAW (Stock and Aitken), giving this disc yet another stamp of quality…
If only this was a one-off, for both Robson & Jerome, and for Simon Cowell. But, of course, it wasn’t. Much more is to come. Until then, let’s distract ourselves with some chart trivia. This marks the first time that a song has topped the chart in three different versions (the Righteous Brothers, of course, and the Jimmy Young version from way back in 1955). Meanwhile, ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ became the longest-titled #1 single ever – as long as you include the brackets at the start.
A very happy new year to all who follow this blog! So, where were we…? In the real world it’s 2024, while back here it’s the spring of 1995…
Dreamer, by Livin’ Joy (their 1st and only #1)
1 week, from 7th – 14th May 1995
We left things a few weeks ago having just welcomed Oasis to the top of the charts with ‘Some Might Say’, officially kicking off the Britpop age. Our next number one is the direct flip-side to that wall of guitar; the other, equally valid, sound of the nineties.
That is, the sound of a hitherto unknown Europop outfit appearing out of nowhere with a proper old-school dance banger. Having it large, mate! Nice one! Big fish, little fish, cardboard box… etc. etc. I may struggle to convince as a dance music fan, but I really do like songs like this. Songs with conviction. Dance music with the power of rock and roll. Hands to the sky, don’t ask why.
Livin’ Joy were a pair of Italian brothers, who took care of the production, and American singer Janice Robinson, who fronted the whole thing. As with all the best dance tracks – ‘Rhythm Is a Dancer’, ‘Let Me be Your Fantasy’ and the like – the vocals are made to be belted out between mouthfuls of dry ice. Probably the closest comparison to be drawn, though, is with Black Box’s ‘Ride on Time’ – not just because they were also Italian, but because Robinson is one of the few dance divas who can compete with Loleatta Holloway in the belting stakes.
And also because ‘Dreamer’ has quite a few retro house touches, especially as we end with the title line on a tight loop, as if the record has stuck, leaving us dancing to it for eternity. I drew a comparison to rock and roll a moment ago, and in all honesty dance music in the 1990s is what rock was in the 1950s… If you wanted to rock around the clock in 1995, you would do so to songs like ‘Dreamer’, with upbeat lyrics like Love, life, and laughter, Is all that I believe… None of that silly introspective nonsense. There’s also a good example of the ‘dance music as church’ phenomenon, in lines like My saviour is pure now, Because my lonely heart would bleed… They don’t mean much, if they mean anything at all, but they sound good in the moment. Euphoric, even.
I say that Livin’ Joy were ‘hitherto unknown’ before this, but in truth ‘Dreamer’ had made #18 – a not inconsiderable hit – just the year before. Its popularity kept growing, causing it to re-enter the lower reaches of the charts a couple of times, before a full re-release sent it walloping straight in at number one.
The band were good for another couple of Top 10 hits, but they did so without Janice Robinson, who left in 1996 to try a solo career. She has toured with Tina Turner and Lionel Richie, and written songs for a variety of different pop singers. Livin’ Joy meanwhile continued on with a different singer in Tameka Star. Wikipedia lists them as still active, but they haven’t released any new music since 1999.
The results are in, the public has spoken. Earlier this week, Wham! finally made the festive top spot with ‘Last Christmas’, thirty-nine years late. (Hopefully now that it has achieved its ultimate goal, the song will be purged from every device on the planet, and we’ll never have to hear it again…) But in an even more important call to arms, I asked readers of this blog to choose their favourite, and their least-favourite, Xmas #1s.
The vote stopped in 1994, as that’s where our regular blog is (and because that is, I firmly believe, the end of the golden-age of the Christmas chart-topper). I also didn’t include every official Xmas #1 – just those that were Christmassy or silly enough – because everyone knows the Beatles were good, and we didn’t need them adding this honour to their role-call. So without further ado, the Top 3 Best Christmas #1s, as voted by you, are…
3rd place
‘Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)’, by Pink Floyd
The final Christmas #1 from THE decade for Christmas #1s, it’s the only single ever released by Pink Floyd (references needed). It ticks some of the boxes for a festive hit – novelty value, children singing en masse – but otherwise it’s got bugger all to do with the holiday season, and lots to do with abuse of power and brainwashing of youngsters. Margaret Thatcher hated it, and there’s no greater endorsement than that! (Read my original post on it here.)
2nd place
‘Stay Another Day’, by East 17
More Christmassy than Pink Floyd, though still not officially a ‘Christmas song’ (but, the bells!)… The 1994 Xmas chart-topper. Written about the suicide of Tony Mortimer’s brother, it’s both sad, and uplifting, as I mentioned in my post on it a few weeks back. And those white parkas have become enshrined in British pop culture. It was still some way off the winning song, though…
1st place
‘Merry Xmas Everybody’, by Slade
It had to be, didn’t it? With just over 30% of the vote, it’s the song that kicked of the very idea of the ‘Christmas Number One’. A glam classic, and a raucous festive singalong, for many it simply isn’t Christmas until Noddy Holder has belted out his famous line… All together now… It’s Christmaaaaaas…!
Anyway, now that’s done, on to the really important bit. The WORST… And interestingly, more votes were cast in this one than for the ‘good’ Christmas songs. Nice to see everyone indulging their dark side… One song was a clear leader from the start but, like all the best Xmas #1 races, a second contender caught up and ended the vote neck and neck. Yes, we have a tie…
Joint 1st place
‘Mr Blobby’, by Mr Blobby, and ‘There’s No One Quite Like Grandma’, by The St Winifred’s School Choir
I’m not sure there can be many complaints, as these are two truly terrible pieces of music, for very different reasons. One is manically unhinged, the other is sickeningly saccharine. Both represent the British public’s tendency to send utter tat to the top of the charts, especially at Christmas. But… I do have a soft spot for one of them; while the other needs, in my opinion, to be torched by a flame-thrower. Regular readers will know which is which.
Thanks for voting, for reading this post, and for reading, liking, and commenting on all my posts throughout this year, and the years before. For the first time since starting this blog in 2018, I’ll be taking a winter break. I’ll still be around, interacting in the blogosphere, but the next #1s post will be (hopefully) on the 7th January.
All that’s left is to wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! See you in 2024!
It’s the most wonderful time of the year, at least according to Andy Williams, which means stockings above the fireplace, geese getting fat, goodwill to all… And the annual race for Christmas Number One.
By now it’s certainly a British tradition, and the one time of the year that the singles chart is guaranteed to make the news, but most people would say that the honour of being the nation’s biggest-selling song on December 25th has lost a lot of its lustre. I’d agree. In fact, I’d say that we’ve already covered the heyday of the Christmas Number One in my regular blog… The most recent festive #1 was 1994’s: East 17’s ‘Stay Another Day’, a classic that I’ve just named one of the Very Best. From here on its a slippery slope, past The Spice Girls, endless X-Factor winners, countless charity singles, to the very bottom of the barrel, and the dreaded LadBaby.
Now it’s time for you to decide: what is the greatest Xmas #1? And, perhaps more importantly, what is the worst?? See below two polls, in which you can choose as many or as few songs as you like, for both honours.
Perhaps controversially, I’ve not listed every Xmas #1 since 1952. Until the early seventies, the idea of a ‘Christmas Number One’ wasn’t particularly relevant, so the only pre-1973 hits I’ve included in the vote are specifically Chistmassy, or novelty songs that probably wouldn’t have made #1 at any other time of year (so, sorry, no Beatles…) Even post-1973, I’ve excluded pop songs that just happened to be #1 at Christmas (so no Human League, or Pet Shop Boys). However, there is space at the bottom for you to nominate any Xmas #1 you think I’ve unfairly missed off the list. You may, for example, feel very strongly that ‘Two Little Boys’ deserves the title…
Here’s the poll for the best…
And the worst…
I’ll announce the results on Christmas Eve, so you have until then to cast your votes. Have at it!
We ended the last thirty #1s on Oasis, and ‘Some Might Say’, a clarion call for the Britpop era to come. But, looking back, the previous era can go under one name only: ‘Take That Totality’! (Send any better words beginning with ‘T’ on a postcard, please…) Yes, Britain’s biggest-ever boyband scored six chart-toppers over the last thirty, which has to be some kind of record. I’m not sure that even Elvis or The Beatles, during their periods of domination in the 1960s, managed six in one recap.
Their hits have ranged from the super-famous-and-slightly-overrated (‘Back for Good’) to the surprisingly enjoyable (‘Sure’) to the predictably so-so (‘Babe’ and ‘Everything Changes’) to a fun intergenerational duet (‘Relight My Fire’, with the lovely Lulu). The best for me, though I didn’t quite appreciate it at the time, was their first: ‘Pray’. While they’re not done yet – in real-time we’re on the verge of Robbie’s walkout – by our next recap they’ll have long since split, and Gary will have embarked on his wildly successful solo career. For all their #1s, though, the best boyband hit of the past two years was not by Take That… More on that in due course.
In and around all the screaming teeny-boppers, we’ve had some par-for-the-course reggae, with two reinventions of ‘60s classics. Chaka Demus & Pliers gave us a fun take on ‘Twist and Shout’, while Pato Banton gave us a slightly more predictable run through of ‘Baby Come Back’ alongside the Campbell brothers from UB40. We’ve also had the pre-requisite ‘90s power ballads: Meat Loaf’s batshit ‘I Would Do Anything For Love’, Mariah Carey’s unnecessary cover of ‘Without You’, and Celine Dion’s much more welcome ‘Think Twice’.
We also met, and endured, another of the longest-running #1s ever. Wet Wet Wet’s cover of ‘Love Is All Around’ was much lighter and more enjoyable than the Bryan Adams and Whitney Houston behemoths from last time out, but still didn’t merit anything like fifteen weeks at the top. (As an aside, the number of times I’ve typed the words ‘cover’ or ‘version’ in the last few minutes has me wondering just how many of the past thirty #1s were covers. Seven, apparently, which seems like a lot, but I haven’t time to go back and check…)
And of course, this being the mid-nineties, we’ve had our fair share of chart-topping dance records. Some classic, or at least well-respected – ‘Mr Vain’, D:Ream, ‘The Real Thing’ and Baby D – some very cheap and tacky – Doop, Whigfield, ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ and the Outhere Brothers (which was also the most profanity-strewn number one yet, by far …)
If all the above feels fairly expected, then we’ve also had a few firsts and anomalies. Some chap with a squiggly symbol for a name, formerly known as Prince, managed his one and only British chart-topper with the underwhelming ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’. We also had our sole grunge #1: Stiltskin’s ‘Inside’, which added to the growing sub-genre of ‘chart-toppers brought about by Levi’s adverts’. And our first and last football club #1: Man Utd branching out from league domination to take over the singles charts (with a little help from Status Quo).
Awards time, then! Starting, as is customary, with The ‘Meh’ Award for songs that failed to get my pulse even mildly aroused. And there have been a few so-so chart-toppers recently. I could plump for a couple of Take That contenders, in ‘Babe’ and ‘Everything Changes’, but the former had a weird creepiness to it and the latter was catchy enough. ‘Love Can Build a Bridge’ – this recap’s charity effort – was also fairly bland, though with a cast of characters that caught the eye at least. I could be controversial and give it to Prince… But no, I’m going for Gabrielle’s ‘Dreams’: nice enough, dinner-party soul-pop. It may be because it’s not fresh in the memory – it was the first of the thirty – or it may be because it’s just plain boring.
The WTAF Awardfor being interesting if nothing else is always a fun one to do. And boy, do we have an interesting range of contenders. Meat Loaf (and Jim Steinman’s) outrageous tale of all the things he would do for love barring one has to be in the mix for the bombast, the video, and the record-breaking runtime. Then there’s ‘Mr Blobby’ – a horrible record, but one which holds a strange, car-crash type fascination for me. And there’s Doop, with their eponymous hit, a disorienting fusion of Eurodance and ragtime…
It’s a toughie, and so I looked back at previous WTAF winners. It seems I’ve tended to go for songs I quite like – that are just a bit zany, or against the tide – rather than songs that disturb. ‘Nut Rocker’, ‘Kung Fu Fighting’, ‘Doctorin’ the Tardis’ and the like. So Blobby’s out. And so, sadly, are Doop. Meat Loaf wins!
Perhaps I should save Blobby for the next award: TheVery Worst Chart-Topper? For a long while I did think he’d have to win. But I didn’t reckon on two horror-shows from early 1995. When the Rednex came along sporting their brand of techno-bluegrass I thought they had it sewn up, for sure. Except then came The Outhere Brothers, with the moronic, repetitive, genuinely unfunny ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’, which none of its many remixes could redeem. In the interests of fairness, I should really listen to them both one more time… But why subject myself to that? ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ is a terrible song, but a song nonetheless. ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’ is a mess of tedious beats, shouting and swearing. It wins.
And finally, the 25thVery Best Chart-Topper. To be honest, the pickings were slim. Plenty of records I liked, few that I love. So I’ll dispense with the usual debating, the umming and aahing, and announce that since this was undoubtedly Take That’s era, I’m giving the award to East 17, for their classic Christmas ballad ‘Stay Another Day’. Tis the season, after all…
To recap the recaps:
The ‘Meh’ Award for Forgettability
‘Hold My Hand’, by Don Cornell.
‘It’s Almost Tomorrow’, by The Dream Weavers.
‘On the Street Where You Live’, by Vic Damone.
‘Why’, by Anthony Newley.
‘The Next Time’ / ‘Bachelor Boy’, by Cliff Richard & The Shadows.
‘Juliet’, by The Four Pennies.
‘The Carnival Is Over’, by The Seekers.
‘Silence Is Golden’, by The Tremeloes.
‘I Pretend’, by Des O’Connor.
‘Woodstock’, by Matthews’ Southern Comfort.
‘How Can I Be Sure’, by David Cassidy.
‘Annie’s Song’, by John Denver.
‘I Only Have Eyes For You’, by Art Garfunkel.
‘I Don’t Want to Talk About It’ / ‘The First Cut Is the Deepest’, by Rod Stewart.
‘Three Times a Lady’, by The Commodores.
‘What’s Another Year’, by Johnny Logan.
‘A Little Peace’, by Nicole.
‘Every Breath You Take’, by The Police.
‘I Got You Babe’, by UB40 with Chrissie Hynde.
‘Who’s That Girl’, by Madonna.
‘A Groovy Kind of Love’, by Phil Collins.
‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’, by Band Aid II.
‘Please Don’t Go’ / ‘Game Boy’, by KWS.
‘Dreams’, by Gabrielle
The WTAF Award for being interesting if nothing else
‘I See the Moon’, by The Stargazers.
‘Lay Down Your Arms’, by Anne Shelton.
‘Hoots Mon’, by Lord Rockingham’s XI.
‘You’re Driving Me Crazy’, by The Temperance Seven.
‘Nut Rocker’, by B. Bumble & The Stingers.
‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, by Gerry & The Pacemakers.
‘Little Red Rooster’, by The Rolling Stones.
‘Puppet on a String’, by Sandie Shaw.
‘Fire’, by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown.
‘In the Year 2525 (Exordium and Terminus)’, by Zager & Evans.
‘Amazing Grace’, The Pipes & Drums & Military Band of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guard.
‘Kung Fu Fighting’, by Carl Douglas.
‘If’, by Telly Savalas.
‘Wuthering Heights’, by Kate Bush.
‘Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick’, by Ian Dury & The Blockheads.
‘Shaddap You Face’, by Joe Dolce Music Theatre.
‘It’s My Party’, by Dave Stewart & Barbara Gaskin.
‘Save Your Love’ by Renée & Renato.
‘Rock Me Amadeus’, by Falco.
‘Pump Up the Volume’ / ‘Anitina (The First Time I See She Dance)’, by M/A/R/R/S.
‘Doctorin’ the Tardis’, by The Timelords.
‘Sadeness Part 1’, by Enigma.
‘Ebeneezer Goode’, by The Shamen.
‘I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)’, by Meat Loaf
The Very Worst Chart-Toppers
‘Cara Mia’, by David Whitfield with Mantovani & His Orchestra.
‘The Man From Laramie’, by Jimmy Young.
‘Roulette’, by Russ Conway.
‘Wooden Heart’, by Elvis Presley.
‘Lovesick Blues’, by Frank Ifield.
‘Diane’, by The Bachelors.
‘The Minute You’re Gone’, by Cliff Richard.
‘Release Me’, by Engelbert Humperdinck.
‘Lily the Pink’, by The Scaffold.
‘All Kinds of Everything’, by Dana.
‘The Twelfth of Never’, by Donny Osmond.
‘The Streak’, by Ray Stevens.
‘No Charge’, by J. J. Barrie
‘Don’t Give Up On Us’, by David Soul
‘One Day at a Time’, by Lena Martell.
‘There’s No One Quite Like Grandma’, by St. Winifred’s School Choir.
‘I’ve Never Been to Me’, by Charlene.
‘Hello’, by Lionel Richie.
‘I Want to Know What Love Is’, by Foreigner.
‘Star Trekkin’’, by The Firm.
‘Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love for You’, by Glenn Medeiros.
‘Let’s Party’, by Jive Bunny & The Mastermixers.
‘(Everything I Do) I Do It for You’, by Bryan Adams.
‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’, by The Outhere Brothers
The Very Best Chart-Toppers
‘Such a Night’, by Johnnie Ray.
‘Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White’, by Perez ‘Prez’ Prado & His Orchestra.
‘Great Balls of Fire’, by Jerry Lee Lewis.
‘Cathy’s Clown’, by The Everly Brothers.
‘Telstar’, by The Tornadoes.
‘She Loves You’ by The Beatles.
‘(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction’, by The Rolling Stones.
‘A Whiter Shade of Pale’, by Procol Harum.
‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’, by Marvin Gaye.
‘Baby Jump’, by Mungo Jerry.
‘Metal Guru’, by T. Rex.
‘Tiger Feet’, by Mud.
‘Space Oddity’, by David Bowie.
‘I Feel Love’, by Donna Summer.
‘Heart of Glass’, by Blondie.
‘The Winner Takes It All’, by ABBA.
‘My Camera Never Lies’, by Bucks Fizz.
‘Relax’ by Frankie Goes to Hollywood.
‘You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)’, by Dead or Alive
‘Stand by Me’, by Ben E. King (Honorary Award)
‘It’s a Sin’, by Pet Shop Boys.
‘Theme from S-Express’, by S’Express.
‘Nothing Compares 2 U’, by Sinéad O’Connor.
‘Would I Lie to You?’, by Charles & Eddie
‘Stay Another Day’, by East 17
I’m planning on taking break over Christmas and New Year, but before I go I’ll be back next week with something special on Christmas #1s…
I’m both thrilled and downhearted that we’ve reached the beginning of the Oasis era. Much like I wrote in the intro to my last post, on Take That’s ‘Back for Good’… What can I add to the three decades’ worth of column inches dedicated to Britain’s most polarising band.
Some Might Say, by Oasis (their 1st of eight #1s)
1 week, from 30th April – 7th May 1995
Basically, what to say about Oasis that isn’t cliched? I need to approach this completely subjectively, then. Which isn’t hard, because Oasis were my first big musical love (OK, second… but we’ll deal with that Spice Girls-shaped elephant in the room when the time comes…) ‘Some Might Say’ has never been among my very favourite Oasis records but, actually, this is a good thing, as far as this post is concerned. It hasn’t been overplayed to death, and I’m glad that this made #1, and not the two #2 hits that followed.
On the other hand, I’d rather their two preceding singles – ‘Whatever’, or ‘Cigarettes and Alcohol’, had been the first chart-topper. ‘Some Might Say’ has some of the vim, the punkish energy of ‘Definitely Maybe’ – I’d say it’s the song from ‘What’s the Story…’ that could most easily slip onto their debut – but signs of bloat are already appearing. After a brilliant glam riff opening, it settles into a slightly plodding, overlong rock song (why, oh why, is this five and a half minutes long?) And, despite the long-held belief that Oasis were a rejection of grunge’s misery and introspection, there are some very heavy, grungy chords in the chorus.
I had a pop at Gary Barlow’s lyrics in that last post, and I have to call Noel out here too, even if this is where I tip into well-trodden cliché. Oasis lyrics walk the line between revelatory and ridiculous. One minute you’re thinking ‘Yes, profound!’. The next you’re thinking ‘Maybe not…’ Some might say they don’t believe in heaven, Go and tell it to the man who lives in hell… is a great line. Some might say you get what you’ve been given, If you don’t get yours I won’t get mine as well… is more at the ‘maybe not’ end. (Though we can all agree that The sink is full of fishes, She’s got dirty dishes on the brain… is a lyric for the ages…)
The star here, as in many of Oasis’s early songs, is the man interpreting these words, and making them his own. Liam. The last true rock star, and one of the all-time great frontmen. A beautiful moron (‘Some Might Say’ doesn’t have a proper video because he never showed up for the shoot), his sweetly aggressive vocals attack his brother’s unwieldy lines and transform them. Just try singing this song like he does. It’s very difficult – your voice ends up straining, and cracking, and getting lost among the walls of guitar (Oasis were, thankfully, never fans of understated production.)
Like I said, I once loved Oasis – growing up male, in small town Scotland, in the late ‘90s/early ‘00s, it was all but mandatory – but it is a love that has faded. I’ve accepted that they were limited, that they did have a habit of ‘borrowing’ riffs and melodies (even now I’ll listen to a Kinks album track and hear a bit that sounds familiar…), and that they believed their own hype a little too much. And yet, they were never as bad, as unoriginal, as much a Bargain Bucket Beatles, as some critics were desperate to make out.
Anyway, I’m writing as if this was their one and only chart-topper, not as if they have seven more to come. It’s easy to forget just how phenomenally successful they were. All seven of their studio albums entered the charts at #1, while ‘Some Might Say’ was the first of eight singles in a row to make either #1 or #2, between 1995 and 2000. It might not be the perfect song to be crowned their first chart-topper – the first chart-topper of the Britpop era even – but Some might say, We will find a brighter day… is perhaps the perfect summation of the Oasis manifesto.
These are the types of posts I least enjoy writing. Famous songs, that everyone knows, about which loads has already been said…
Back for Good, by Take That (their 6th of twelve #1s)
4 weeks, from 2nd – 30th April 1995
Quite often, too, they’re not songs I particularly like. And I should, in the interests of full-disclosure, admit off the bat that I’m not a huge fan of this record… I can recognise it as a good pop song – a well-constructed, grown-up pop song far beyond your usual boyband fare – and admire it thus. From a distance. With one listen per year, at most.
It’s the Barlow Conundrum, again. He’s often trying, to my ears at least, to write the perfect pop song. To prove that he and his band had long since grown beyond their ‘British New Kids on the Block’ origins. That he is to be Taken. Seriously. And of course he should be. He’s a very capable, competent songwriter. ‘Back for Good’ won an Ivor Novello award, one of British music’s ultimate accolades, for a start.
But… Compare and contrast this with another recent blockbuster boyband ballad, on a very similar lyrical theme: ‘Stay Another Day’. The lyrics to that are simple to the point of almost being trite. But something – something in their universality, in the way Brian Harvey delivers them like a lost child, in the song’s hidden subject matter – hits home in a way ‘Back for Good’ never manages.
Take the second verse here, in particular. Unaware but underlined, I figured out this story… In the corner of my mind, I celebrated glory… In the twist of separation, You excelled at being free… It all sounds clever, but does it actually mean anything? The harmonies are lovely, the want you back hook burrows its way in and never leaves, but is it all a bit fur coat and no knickers?
Or maybe it’s just me. ‘Back for Good’ has cropped up in pretty much every ‘Best songs of the…’ list for thirty years now. I am fully prepared for comments on how very wrong I am on this… But this record leaves me, like a fair old chunk of the Barlow Songbook, cold. Luckily for Take That, I am (sadly) not the arbiter of popular music, and this was a massive, massive hit all around the world. Even on the Billboard 100, where it made #7.
My feelings aside, ‘Back for Good’ was clearly the moment that Take That were made credible. Everyone who had written them off as just another boyband, even those way too cool for school, liked this record. I think it’s fair to say that without this song’s success, the band would not still be filling stadiums and topping the album charts in 2023. Back in 1995, and one of those aforementioned converts who confessed himself a fan of this song was Noel Gallagher. Speaking of whom…
The UK Number Ones Blog 